


Spin the Bottle

by kittyjosh



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Declarations Of Love, Fluff, Just 2 dorks in love, Kissing, M/M, Overuse of italics, Pining, Spin the Bottle, this is garbage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-06
Updated: 2016-05-06
Packaged: 2018-06-06 17:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6763123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittyjosh/pseuds/kittyjosh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moritz doesn't like parties but he really likes Melchior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spin the Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> Hello this is my first Melchritz fic, hopefully many more to follow. I can't think of titles and this is kinda crap but...it's here. This is very different to what I usually write in the way that it's cute (mostly) innocent fluffy pining so...that was new for me and may have contributed to how it took so fucking long to write.   
> Feedback is much appreciated  
> Thank you!

Moritz is never listening to Melchior Gabor again. 

At least that is what he is thinking as he sits cross-legged on the ground in a circle. He's moderately drunk, a few beers in, yet not enough to take the unpleasant edge off this situation. If anything, the perfect amount to make things just that much worse. His flannel reeks of the stuff from when Bobby Mahler bumped into him and spilled the contents of his red solo cup all down Moritz's front. He knows his dad will be able to smell it on him when he comes home, will yell at him for being irresponsible and, of course, connect that to his grades, even though he didn't even want to come out tonight in the first place. 

It was all Melchior's fault.

* * *

 

'Come on, Moritz. It'll be _fun_.' He had urged yesterday afternoon at his house. 

'I thought you knew me. Clearly not, because in what world, Melchior, do I find house parties fun?' His friend just scoffed at this.

'Have you ever even _been_ to a party? It's an essential part of the teen experience, and you're missing out.' Moritz debated mentioning that he _had_ been to a house party thank you very much, and it had neither ended well for him nor convinced him to go through the whole ordeal again, before realizing that was besides the point.

'I've got to study, my grades are slipping.' 

'I think what you need is a break, to stop worrying about your grades so much.' Perhaps he was right, Moritz did spend a majority of his time studying, though this did not seem to be helping his grades. 

'I-' he stammered out.

' _Please_ , Moritz? It won't be any fun without you there.' And then he did that thing with his eyes and _God dammit_ that was so unfair, he had to know that there was no way Moritz could say no to that look. 

The fact that he had been in love with him for years didn't help matters either.

Moritz heaved a deep sigh.

'Fine, I'll go. Just don't abandon me like you did last time, Melchi. You know how I get around crowds...and loud noise...and other people.' Melchior kept giving him that innocent look, taking his hand. 

'Of course I won't. And if it helps, there won't be as many people there this time.'

 

Melchior had been telling the truth. There weren't nearly as many people here as last time, only 30 at most. Moritz guessed that Hanschen's parents had not been too pleased after the last party he had experienced, which had ended in him having a panic attack and throwing up in the bathroom, Melchior nowhere to be found. Upon arrival, Melchior and Moritz circulated the room a little, greeting their friends (more Melchior's friends) before heading into the kitchen to get drinks. They both took a beer and struck up a conversation with Ilse and Wendla, who were perched close together on the kitchen bench, the former's arm draped around Wendla's waist as she talked about the art she had been working on. 

Moritz remembered the painful period in ninth grade when Melchior had had a massive crush on Wendla. He had rambled about it constantly to Moritz, who grinned and beared it but was secretly delighted when Melchior had asked Wendla out only to find that she was both asexual and a lesbian. Meaning Melchior was the opposite of what she was looking for. 

After a while, Melchior tapped him on the shoulder.

'Hey, I'm going to go into the living room. You can stay here if you want, but you know where to find me.'

Moritz decided to remain where he was, continuing to chat to the girls until they too excused themselves. He sat there alone in the kitchen for a little while, sipping at his beer and eating a few Cheetos. He had just been examining a baby photo of Hanschen on the fridge door when Melchior burst in, with Thea and Georg behind him. They were very loud.

'Moritz! We're playing spin the bottle! Come on, come join us!' 

'I-I don't-' 

'Come on dude!' Georg shouted. 'Don't be a pussy, come on.' Moritz hated that term. But he let himself get dragged out into the living room where a group of around fifteen people were sitting in a circle. They cheered when he entered.

* * *

 

And that is how he ended up here, watching his friends and acquaintances suck face while covered in beer. It is all a blur, several rounds go by. Ilse lands on him and gives him a gentle peck, and he lands on a wasted Bobby Mahler, who he approaches carefully but who then yanks him in and attempts to devour him. It is very sloppy and Moritz doesn't need to do very much. When he finally manages to break away he notices a strange look on Melchior's face. He seems to pointedly not be looking at either of them, and his face is blank, only his eyebrows slightly furrowed. The rounds continue, Moritz staying out of it. Mariana tries desperately to make out with a bored Hanschen, who then lands on Ernst and ravishes him in a way that Moritz really doesn't think is appropriate to do in public. Ernst lands on him, and the other boy is still reeling from his previous experience, hair mussed and cheeks red. He too kisses Moritz gently. And then it is Moritz's turn to spin. He takes the empty bottle and spins it, watching its neck travel over the members of the circle until...

It stops on Melchior. 

Moritz's throat is closing in. 

_No. Not now._

This is the boy he has been in love with for half the time they have known each other, only because during the other half he was too young to understand what love was. He has withstood Melchior gushing about the people he had a crush on. He knows Melchior is bisexual. God only knows how many times his mind has wandered off, daydreaming about those lips on his, lay awake at night biting his spare clenched fist in order not to moan the other's name. And here it is: an opportunity to kiss him, no questions asked. He's _supposed_ to kiss him. 

Here it is, those piercing blue eyes meeting his from across the circle, gaze turning questioning the longer Moritz just sits there. 

And he can't. He can't do it.

'I-I have to go.' Moritz stutters, leaping up from the circle and running out of the room. He stumbles through the kitchen until he reaches the back door, crashing through it and finding himself in the cool night air on the back porch. Nobody else is out here, which is surprising, Moritz thinks, as it's May and the Spring night air is very pleasant. He feels the cold breeze on the beer stained parts of his shirt, cooling him, but not calming him down.

_What had he just done?_  

That was incredibly suspicious, probably the worst thing he could have done. You don't just do that unless you have very strong feelings towards someone. It shouldn't have been a big deal. He could have just given him a peck like Ilse or Ernst did to him. But no, he had to go and screw things up again. Screw up the best relationship in his life, the only thing he has left. God knows he's done it with everything else. 

His breathing becomes erratic, and he curls his fists into his wild hair, feeling himself go somewhere he really doesn't want to go right now. Suddenly he hears the door opening and closing behind him. 

'Moritz?' He turns around to find, who else, Melchior, looking...angry?

'What the fuck, Moritz? What was up with that? I mean we're best friends, we're meant to be close, you could kiss all those other people without an issue, but when it comes to me, someone you're meant to be comfortable with, you freak out? Now everyone else is-

'I'm in love with you.' He doesn't shout it, but it is loud enough that he is heard over Melchior's ranting.

'Wait, what?' The other boy looks shocked, all the anger vanished from his face; his mouth is hanging open like a fish. And it all comes pouring out.

'I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember, and I never said anything because I didn't want to ruin the...best thing in my life and you're the only person I can really trust and-and talk to and I was scared that if I told you how I feel you'd abandon me and I just...I just didn't want our first kiss to be in front of a ton of people at a party for a game. I'm sorry Melchi, I'm so...' 

He turns and begins to walk away, tears welling in his eyes, desperate to get away from this situation. Before Melchior shoots him down. Calls him disgusting, tells him he never wants to see him again. But after only a few steps he feels a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to turn around. It's Melchior, with eyes wide and honest. 

'Moritz,I-I'm sorry. Sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn't make you feel guilty about it. But I would never abandon you, never, you need to know that. And...speaking of things you need to know...' 

Melchior coughs, shifting nervously. His gaze has dropped to his shoes. This is undoubtedly the most nervous Moritz has ever seen him, and he has to admit it's a bit unnerving. A few seconds later though, he takes a deep breath and looks back up at the other boy. 

'I love you too.' 

'You...what?' 

'I love you, Moritz Stiefel.' Melchior says, and this time there's a reverence in his voice. 'It's taken me ten years to realize it but...better late than never, I guess.'

They both give a small chuckle at that, a strange sort of tension between them, like the air before a summer rain. Naturally, Melchior breaks the silence.

'So...can I kiss you now?' He looks up at Moritz, and Christ, never in his life had he imagined seeing what could only be called a shy smile on Melchior's face. Directed at him, nonetheless. 

'I-yeah. Yeah, you can.' Moritz says decisively. He nods. 

The next few moments happen as if in slow motion. He sees Melchior's hand raise from his side, feels it curl around Moritz's back to rest on his waist. The other one comes up to cup the older boy's face as he moves in, his eyes fluttering closed. 

The first touch of Melchior's lips to his own is like magic. Their surprising softness subconsciously causes Moritz's lips to part, meeting the kiss gently yet firmly. Moritz's hand moves to grip Melchior's shoulder, pulling their bodies closer, relishing in the heat coming off him. They find themselves getting lost in the kiss. It is an innocent thing, yet so full of passion. Moritz realizes that until this moment, he has never _really_ kissed someone. Pecks on the cheek, unreciprocated attempts, yes. But never anything like _this_. This is heaven. 

Melchior's tongue has slipped into his mouth, earning a gasp, his hand on Melchior's shoulder tightening. In that moment there is nothing in the world except for him and Melchior, their bodies, their mouths. 

For this reason, they don't hear the back door as it swings open. They don't notice anything until a loud, raucous laugh sounds from right next to it. 

'THEY'RE MAKING OUT!' 

The two boys Spring apart at once, faces red and overall appearances disheveled. It's Thea, who had just turned around to yell back into the house. When she notices that they have stopped she laughs again. 

'Martha was worried that you two were arguing and asked me to come check.' She explains. 

'You're sure not arguing.' 

The three of them laugh, Moritz blushing heavily. Melchior wraps his arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. 

'Yeah, we're sure not.' 


End file.
